A Swarm of bees in May is Worth a Load of Hay

After my last disappointment with the bees, I was reluctantly coming to the conclusion that perhaps my beekeeping days were over. I was ready to offload all my equipment and concentrate on less baffling projects. A lifetimes association though, is hard to abandon, and so I prevaricated hoping that something might turn up. The swarming season was coming to an end and with no signs of bees anywhere else to acquire, my thoughts turned elsewhere, mainly towards Thistledew my ancient campervan, and taking to the road again.
So, a visit to Mill Garage in Duns (brilliant people with motor caravans and vehicles in general) was required to get an MOT sorted. As I walked in to the workshop Jimmy the owner looked up and said "David, just the man I wanted to see." OH, oh, I thought. Jimmy is one of this world`s jokers and is always game to pull your leg, so I was not sure what to think when he told me that a swarm had landed in his son`s garden, and would I like to go and see it? Every time I see Jimmy he gently and comically refers to my stolen bees, so I was ready for the joke which must surely follow. But no, this time he was serious and phoned his son to tell him that he had seen me.

I drove the short distance to Stephen and Leslie`s house to look and sure enough, a lovely semi prime swarm was settled in a text book position on the edge of their garden hedge about 2 feet above the ground.

Perfect.

The capture of the swarm was easily accomplished, gently shaking the swarm into the shallow super that I placed under it.

I left them until the evening, when I returned and found that they had all settled down. I secured the pack and loaded the new acquisition into my van for the uneventful journey to my new apiary site in the woods near my home.

This all happened on Friday, I left them to settle over the weekend, and this morning with some slight trepidation, Meghan and I paid a visit at 07.00 to check. No need to have worried they were busy doing what bees do at this time of year, coming and going with full pollen baskets and hopefully full honey stomachs, as if oblivious to the fact they were in a completely new location several miles from their previous home.

So a big thank you is owed to Jimmy, Stephen and Leslie and an even bigger thank you to Rebecca for the photographs.

Non beekeepers may wonder about the title to this blog.

It is from the old beekeepers mantra from the days when bees were kept in skeps, and the only way of keeping bees was to start each season with a new swarm and destroy it in the autumn to garner the crop. Thankfully we don`t have to do that these days. The full rhyme goes something like this :-

A swarm of bees in May is worth a load of hay,

A swarm of bees in June is worth a silver spoon,

But a swarm of bees in July isn`t worth a fly.

An incoming swarm of bees in any month is nowadays most welcome although they have been very shy over the last few years.

Tomorrow I plan to place a new brood chamber box under the shallow super and give the bees a sugar syrup feed to help them quickly draw foundation into those magnificently intricate combs, which will fill with brood and continue natures way of strengthening the new fragile colony.

Perhaps next year I can steal some of their hard won stores..............

What about Thistledew? Do I hear you say.

Well, after a bit of skillful welding at Mill Garage, a new MOT certificate was presented, so more money to part with for Road Fund Licence and we are off down to Hampshire for a farewell party at my son Adrian's house on Saturday. It will be great to see him, Lucy and baby Thomas again.

The farewell part?

Well, Adrian has been appointed Commanding Officer of the Falkland Islands Royal Navy Patrol Vessel/Guard Ship HMS Clyde and will be on Southern Atlantic Patrol duties for the next six months.

He leaves on Sunday for a `2 leg` 19 hour flight (via Ascension Island) leaving Brize Norton at midnight. Arriving in the Falklands Monday evening....... Bon Voyage Son.

So all in all we have had an exciting last few days, with hopefully more to follow.

We are hoping to travel north from Hampshire taking the best part of the week to make our way leisurely through Wales camping en route, to my sisters home near Chester for yet another party on the following Saturday. This time it will be Pam and Geoff`s 40th wedding anniversary........

Note to Phillip H. We are thinking of your dear wife`s admission to BGH today for the hip replacement operation.

We do hope that it goes well and that she will soon be chasing you around again. Give her our love., and you behave yourself whilst she is away!

These days, its only the stress that gives me the energy to carry on.
I`m at that time of life when profound thoughts cross my mind, like isn`t nature wonderful to arrange it so that wrinkles don`t hurt?
I`m even feeling a tad sympathetic towards anyone who would wish to be Prime Minister. Imagine on Friday next, facing all the problems that await the new incumbent. Can you imagine wanting that? I wouldn`t want it. It makes me wonder if it is sensible to vote for anyone who actually wants to do the job. Just think, their judgment and the decisions that they will have to make, can have a devastating effect on all of us. I`m not sure if I can trust the judgment of anyone who thinks that they really want to be PM. After all they have not displayed particulary good sense in wanting to do the job. Hey Ho,I must be getting old and cynical.
Life to me is like a toilet roll.....the nearer to the end you get, the faster it goes.

David

Bees are in my blood - well, almost...

I came into this world at Westbury Station, on 5th Oct 1943, to the accompaniment of the whistle of of the 12.15 steam train from Shrewsbury to Welshpool.
I wasn`t actually born on the platform or even the passenger waiting room. My grandfather, Cyril, you see, was the Station Master, and my mother lived in the station house with Cyril and my grandmother Jessie. My father, Fred, was away in Burma, engaged in various battles with our then enemies, the Japanese. Up to his neck in swamps, jungles and no doubt bullets. Some people will do anything to escape the wailings of a new born baby!
My paternal grandparents were farmers in Preston Brook, Cheshire. Lower Eanley Wood Farm was the place. My father was the youngest of 4 brothers William, Harry, and James. My grandfather was William and my grandmother was Henrietta. They also had a daughter called Jessie who sadly died, quite young, many years ago.
When I was 4 years old we moved from Westbury to live at Lower Eanley Wood, where my father rejoined the family farm on his return from the war.
It was actually in the village of Norton, in the valley below Norton Water Tower, a landmark that exists today. The farm land was bounded to the south east, by the Warrington to Chester Railway alongside the Bridgewater Canal which hugged the contour halfway up the Hill known as Red Brow.
The canal passed through Preston Brook tunnel to Dutton, where it became the Trent and Mersey, at the Dutton stop lock. Between Preston Brook and our farm, a real canal junction existed, with an iron roving bridge to allow towing horses to change from one towpath to another without casting off. This junction was known as the Runcorn Arm and wound its way around the contour 6 miles to Runcorn and then down via a flight of locks to join the River Mersey and the Manchester Ship Canal. This gave an uninterupted lock free pound from Runcorn to Wigan via Manchester. Our land continued to the west, beyond the canal and around the back of the old canal warehouse complex, with a dirt track known as the Cow Lane from Preston Brook directly to the farm over the first hump back bridge on the Runcorn Arm. The land to the right of the arm to the next bridge (Norton Bridge) by Juddy Williams` Cottage, was also in our occupation.The canal was built by James Brindley to the instructions of the Duke of Bridgewater, to enable coal to be shipped cheaply from the mines at Worsley to Manchester, and indeed heralded the canal age more than 200 years ago. The extension from Manchester to Runcorn was added later and the link up to the Trent and Mersey Canal enabled trade to prosper, firstly to and from the Potteries to Liverpool and over the Penines to Yorkshire and eventually south to the Capital itself.
I feel sure that this background has been responsible for my love of all things rural, and my interest in the canals of the UK, England and Wales in particular.
I used to walk home from Daresbury school, a distance of about 4 miles, in all weathers from the age of 5. Uncomtemplatable today. But it was always safe in those days.
My first encounter with bees and beekeeping occured at this time. At the bottom corner of our land just accross the railway, under Red Brow, lived an old couple (at least they appeared old to a 6 year old) From memory it seemed that they lived in an old black cabin, like an old railway carriage, except that I`m sure it wasn`t. They occupied land between the railway level crossing and the stream which was at the bottom of the hill below the canal level, growing vegetables and keeping bees. I can`t remember if he worked at a job or not, or if they were retired. There was to me the magic art of beekeeping going on. Fortunately he tolerated my sporadic appearances at the apiary, and something of that way of life rubbed off and on to me.
It has stayed with me for the rest of my life.
All these memories were passing through my mind as I approached the Hives nr Gifford to see if the bees were OK after our particularly hard winter.
Meghan was quite happy, the sun was shining and the hives were in view. Of the bees there was no sign. I quickened my pace and tapped on the hive wall expecting to hear the buzzing in response from the bees, but only silence. I hefted the rear of the hive to assess the weight. Quite heavy, normally a good sign. Still no bees at the entrance and none flying. I dismantled the roof and feeder. It was empty, indicating that the bees had taken last years winter syrup feed down into the chambers.
Further dismantling showed plenty of capped honey and pollen but no sign of any eggs or brood at any stage. Neither was there any sign of bees. They had all dissapeared. very few dead bees on the floor, non visible on the ground in front of the hive.
I checked further, but there was no sign of emergency queen cells or any indication that the bees had attempted queen replacement. So there it was, perfect condition, loaded with stores but bereft of bees. Classic signs of CCD. (Colony collapse disorder).
something that I had not experienced before.
Perhaps if I had acquired this colony earlier last year I could have examined it and ensured that it was queenright before winter, but the weather was against any such manipulation. The lesser evil was to feed it up and allow it to take its chances.
So, apart from the short period after the theft I am now without bees for the first time in more than 50 years.
I`ll wait to see if any swarms become available in May or June. If not I`ll have to consider my future options.

FALLING FORWARD INTO SPRING

Just over 3 months since my last post. So many things must have happened whilst I was hibernating, but I didn`t notice.
But the sleep was worth it.
Not true of course.
My hectic retirement keeps me very busy, and the thought of a new year with a new season of beekeeping in mind, and new experiences to be sought, has been forward in my mind.
The snow has finally receded around our village, but it is still to be seen on the high Cheviots across the Merse to the south, and also on the tops of the Lammermuir Hills to the west and north. although it is much less than in the depths of winter.
Our Council apparently spent an additional million pounds this winter because of snow clearing and road gritting, with some council employees putting in 90+ hours in a week!
They are still doing sterling service filling potholes in the roads.
I did suggest to the council how they could have saved a little money.
My idea was instead of waiting for the snow to make everywhere impassable, and then spend time loading tons and tons of the stuff onto huge lorries, all they had to do was park lots of lorries on the roads, nose to tail, before it snowed.
Do you get my drift?
Nature would have done all the costly hard work, by snowing directly onto the lorries instead of the roads, under the trucks.
Then just the simple task of driving it all away when it stopped snowing. No JCBs, and 100s of hours saved.
`Seemple`as the meerkats would say.
Roads cleared in no time at all, not even compressed snow left behind, and much less cost.
They did not take my idea up.
Possibly the date (01 APR 2010) had something to do with it. You know, financial year end and so on coming up. Too busy with paperwork etc.
As we progress further into spring my thoughts were constantly with my bees in the wood near Gifford.
Before winter, on accepting the hives and the single colony, I decided to give a winter feed to the colony to ensure sufficient stores were available to them. The weather at the time being late in the season, precluded opening the hive to examine the bees before the winter shutdown, so it was a case of feed them quickly and secure the colony for the winter, with the least possible disturbance, leaving them to their own devices and to Nature to make it through till the spring, when the warmer weather arrived.
Normally a warmish dry day in late March would be ideal to assess the colony`s strength.
A suitable day did not occur until earlier this week, so suitably equipped I ventured forth on a round trip of 65 miles to check the colony over.
It was a very pleasant walk through the woodland after parking my van. Signs of spring springing were in the air, all was looking favourable for the bees to be flying. Meghan my Collie was as usual enjoying the romp through the woods, never more than 20 yards away, alert to every rustle in the undergrowth and doing what Meghan does best.
Anticipation of seeing the bees flying at the hive entrance was foremost on my mind, as the area of the wood where the hives are came into view. Surely I had left them with a fighting chance of survival. We approached the hive startling a deer which bounded off through the trees. A blackbird was singing and everywhere was looking fresh after a hard winter. All I wanted was to see bees flying and working the early spring dandelions. The hives came into view, everything looked as if it should be OK. Meghan was doing her usual thing, chasing and throwing sticks into the air.
Since my hives were stolen last September, I went into the winter with only one colony of bees left. This was thanks to the kindness of my friend, Pat, who donated these two hives housing one colony to me, to get me started again.
I have been associated with bees and beekeeping for more than 50 years. You cannot imagine after this time what it was like to be bereft of bees, but Pat generously came to the rescue with the hives in the wood. The plan was, that I could slowly make increase given favourable conditions and get back to where I was with several colony`s of bees in a good apiary, given a couple of seasons and good conditions.
I`ll tell you in my next blog what happened next.

David
Thistledew.

OH NO

18.40 Hours. Guess what?
It`s snowing again in Chirnside.
I think I`ll go to bed....Wake me up in the spring

David
Thistledew.

DEEP AND CRISP AND NOT VERY EVEN

More snow during last night here in Chirnside.
We are almost 400 ft above sea level, so do tend to get weather in this locality, when other areas may well escape.
But Hey! we appear to have been given the day off again tomorrow (click on this link) http://www.scotborders.gov.uk/
This morning Meg (my manic Border Collie), and I ploughed through the white stuff on a hunting and foraging trip to the local shop.
At least half the village joined in.
I have never seen so many familiar faces in the same place at the same time. We all had the same idea.
The council team were out in the village centre at Cross Hills which is also the highest point. They were using a JCB to lift the snow on to the back of a huge tipper lorry. A group of us pondered what they wanted the snow for and concluded that surrounding districts were complaining that they did not have enough snow so we were to send them some of ours.
Not so.
The lorry evidently was taking the snow to a local field to dispose of it, but it was a strange sight nonetheless.
Our procession, growing by the minute, wended its way to the Co-op to find that they had not had deliveries of bread or milk for almost a week. The main road looked as it must have done 100 years ago, no vehicles and everybody on foot. It was notable that everybody including the local yoofs had time to stop and chat.
Meghan loved it
Perhaps we need more snow throughout the UK to help us resurect old values.
All in all despite the lack of supplies and the struggle along the road from our house, it was a very pleasant experience. And our council says have a day off tomorrow.
Life`s not all bad is it?

Keep warm
Keep safe
David
Thistledew.

MY WORLD IN THE SCOTTISH BORDERS and WELCOME TO IT. (At the moment you really are welcome to it)

I opened the curtains this morning to a beautiful day in Alaska. Or so it seemed.
Evidently last nights snow was excessive even by Scottish standards. I don`t think that I would be exaggerating to say that 3 feet of snow fell during the night.
The next couple of hours or so were spent digging my way around the bungalow and my neighbours bungalow. Jock, my amazingly independent next door neighbour was as usual, reluctant to accept help, even though he is 86 years old. He said that he has not died yet during the winter. Fair enough I say.

It has snowed at least 3 times since this picture was taken and as I write, it is now snowing again. No vehicles have moved on our road all day, and the Police issued a warning that all roads in the Borders area were closed.

Meghan, my Border Collie thinks that the snow is good fun, so good in fact that she brings great dollops of the stuff indoors with her, much to the chagrin of my better half.

Our flock of starlings sparrows, blackbirds and wrens are queuing up at the bird table for food all day. I have fed them twice already today, and they still want more.

Our local Co-op has apparently run out of all the basic essentials, and is unable to receive more supplies due to the state of the roads. (all roads to our village are uphill and lorries could not gain traction even if the surrounding roads were clear) but we are all pretty much stocked up with the basic necessities so hopefully we wont starve.

I wonder how my new bees are doing at the moment. It is impossible to visit them until the snow goes. The biggest problem is that the entrance to the hives may be blocked with drifting snow, and the ventilation may be affected. this can lead to dampness which is a serious problem within the hive. The bees can normally deal with this but the amount of snow and the speed with which it is settling could possibly overwhelm them. Lets hope not. As these bees are deep within a wood, my fears are probably groundless. It is strange that even in the depths of winter my thoughts constantly stray to my bees, and particularly to the ones that were stolen.
The police phoned again yesterday to say that they still have no information as to their whereabouts but they are keeping the case open. I just hope that the low life who took them know how to manage them during the winter months.

Our forecast is for more snow tonight so the cycle of hibernate overnight and dig out tomorrow will continue.

I wish you all peace and cosiness, keep warm.

Meeting Thomas

My son Adrian, and his lovely wife Lucy have recently presented us with a handsome Grandson, Thomas. My daughter Alison has already given us 3 lovely Grand daughters.
They live 57 miles from us near Morpeth. Thomas lives in Hampshire. Only 420 miles away! I foresee much travelling in the future.
Adrian, who is an Officer in the Royal Navy, http://www.royalnavy.mod.uk/operations-and-support/surface-fleet/patrol-vessels/fishery-protection-squadron/offshore-patrol-vessels/hms-tyne/commanding-officer/ was able to spend some leave time at the birth, so we took advantage to travel South to meet Thomas and have a rare family meeting.
It is genuinely fulfilling to see new family members coming along, and providing hopes and aspirations for the future. Also, we can play Grand parents even more now!
His Dad has already chosen a mountain bike for him and I am trying to locate a small beekeepers veil and a fishing rod!.
The journey down south is long but easy as long as the traffic works for you.
We make several short stops for breaks and to let Meghan (my Dog) have comfort breaks.
Our first stop is usually at the new service station at Wetherby. Both my wife and I have slight disabilities, sufficient for us to be issued with blue badges to allow us to use disabled parking bays. We only use them when we would have to hobble a distance greater than is comfortable. Whenever we can, we use normal parking spaces on the assumption that someone with greater disability needs the space more than us.
I am always annoyed at the blatant disregard that so many other road users treat the disabled bays and park their motors in them when they don`t have either a badge or disability. Our stop at Wetherby was a case in point. Even from the disabled bays it is a marathon walk to use the facilities here, and inevitably the bays are always in demand. Sure enough a red car pulled in to the bay next to us, 3 young people got out and left the driver in the car. No badge and no obvious disability noted. The driver stayed in the car running the engine to excess. I noted that the car was sign written on the door with the logo of the owning organisation emblazoned thereon. The three passengers eventually returned, to the accompaniment of loud horn blowing from the attention seeking driver, at which point I mentioned to them through the window that they were parking selfishly and that they were stopping genuinely disabled people from using the bays. The driver then hurled abuse at me and tore off at a ridiculous speed. The logo on the side of the car proudly displayed that it belonged to BBC 3 Counties Radio. I am sure that their normally politically correct position would frown on this sort of behaviour.
The chap in the car on the other side of me said that he would have come to my aid, but he had no legs!
I was shaken by the behaviour of the BBC man, and when I arrived at my sons house I looked at the BBC web site and identified the driver from a photograph on the site,as a presenter for 3 counties radio. Obviously not a good man to project the BBC`s image.
Rant over.
We did not let it spoil our day and eventually arrived in Horndean to make acquaintance with young Thomas. I wish him well in life and for the future.
It was quite something to see my son changed from his usual self into a loving and caring father. the pride in his and Lucy`s eyes was obvious to see. Irene and I know that Thomas is in the very best of hands and can look forward to a wonderful future.

MOVING ON

I am now resigned to the fact that I have probably seen the last of my bees and hives etc which were stolen from Penmanshiel.
The site was particularly good, situated as it is alongside the main East Coast rail line, where it passes for several miles through natural woodland, open country and a considerable area where very little intensive agriculture is carried out. It is also fairly close to foothills where heather abounds. Consequently the forage for the bees was particularly good with a comparatively long series of nectar flows. Unfortunately it was also in full view of the A1. This may have been the reason that it was targeted by possibly an opportunist thief, who had noticed it whilst travelling the A1.
I am now making plans to re-establish my beekeeping activities.
Before the hives were stolen, I had already made an arrangement with a local farmer to place some hives in a quiet woodland area on the edge of my village. This was planned for next season. As I now have only one colony, this move will have to be placed on hold until I have made increase to my stock.
The new colony which Pat so kindly gave to me, is situated in an ideal setting but it is approximately 30 miles from home, so I am probably going to have to move it, or increase the number of colonies in this locality, otherwise travelling costs will far outweigh the advantages of its location. More decisions to make! Meanwhile I have visited this hive and fed the bees via an Ashworth feeder with 10 litres of sugar syrup to ensure sufficient stores to get them through the winter. I am keeping my fingers (and everything else) crossed that they survive until the spring when I hope to use this stock as the nucleus for my new colonies.
One of the things that I learned during a lifetime of beekeeping, is that you have to work with the seasons when dealing with bees. So spring time, when the bees start to stir in their nest and the queen resumes more active egg laying, will be the time to try to persuade the bees to agree to increase.
I am also considering the purchase of several packages of bees to introduce into new hives, although the price required by the bee breeders may curtail this option. Bee packages containing around three and a half pounds weight of bees and one queen were last season costing about £120. Quite an investment for what is now basically a hobby for me. Hopefully I may be able to acquire some stray swarms during May or June, although with so many colonies dieing out through so called colony collapse disorder, and general winter losses, swarms are now a much rarer phenomenon than they once were. The demand for bees may well outstrip the supply and costs will probably rise beyond this next year.
More soon.

Recent Events Continued

You can probably imagine how I felt, seeing my little apiary devoid of any vestige of bees and equipment.
Just silence where one would normally expect, even at this time of the year, to experience the sound of bees.
It was a mixture of shock and disbelief, and then the realisation that all my efforts over the last 18 months had also disappeared, refurbished hive parts, and some old but still in use equipment, and an old but complete Glen hive which I kept for nostalgic reasons. Glen hives were once very popular in Scotland, but progress had overtaken them and most hives now in use up here are known as Smith hives. Sad to see a piece of history go with the rest. I am very unlikely to be able to replace that..
The majority of my stocks are were kept in Smiths as are 90% of Scottish bees. These hives are easily constructed, use short lugged BS frames, and are much easier to transport to the heather in the season.

Because almost all Scottish hives are of the Smith design, my missing ones are likely to go un noticed amongst others.
I contacted the local Police Station to report the theft. They were somewhat bemused at first but they realised that the loss of the colonies was probably a crime and they publicised the details. Any news regarding bees soon gets picked up by the media and the police press release certainly had that effect. BBC Scotland news carried the story and local press agencies spread the news amongst the Scottish Press. Unfortunately this has not led to the return of the bees. I fear that they are now long gone. It is a sad fact that bee and hive theft is becoming a growing problem throughout the UK.

I said in part one of this blog, that we have many ways to reflect. Bad, puzzleing and annoying are well covered by the foregoing saga, but life goes on. Moments of kindness come when least expected.

Another good beekeeping friend who is soon to move away rang and said that he had a spare colony located in a wood about 20 miles from my home, "Would you like it to start you off again?".

A simple question offering a generous gift, restoring my faith in human nature. To you, Pat, I thank you for your moments of kindness.

I had to cut part 1 of this blog short because of pressing family commitments. I am slowly catching up now, but more happenings have occured, giving me more moments on which to reflect and to continue the theme of the first 2 paragraphs of part 1.

I shall update you later this week, when hopefully some sort of normallity will have returned to my life..

Recent Events

Many things in life can trigger in us, time to reflect.

You know the sort of thing - close escapes, moments of kindness, emotional trauma, unexplained happenings, unexpected encounters, disbelief in the actions of others etc.

Well, the past 14 or so days have presented me with a varied selection of ways to reflect. Good and bad, puzzling and obvious, annoying and gratifying.

Let me explain.

I have been a keeper of bees for almost as long as I can remember. sometimes with success, often with failure, but always with a sense of gratification that the bees exist, not only as part of the greater plan to help our survival on this fragile planet we call Earth, but also to add to the rich and varied life and wonderment of the human race.

I don`t morally own my bees any more than I own the thousands of acres of fabulous and bounteous Scottish countryside, over which they are free to fly at any time, any where they choose. I suppose that I may briefly own bees that I may buy commercially from the bee breeders, but surely, as soon as I hive the bees in one of my hives, the bees are free spirits and can just as easily merrily fly off, to what to them is a more attractive location. leaving me out of pocket and out of luck. I merely own the structures in which I hope that they will cluster and carry out their focused lives. If I am lucky, my clumsy attempts at husbandry do not cause them to decamp and in good years I can steal a proportion of their hard gotten gains - the honey crop.

I don`t own the land on which my apiaries stand either, but I refer to those small parcels of land, as my apiaries as a matter of course. My bee hives are there due to the goodwill and co-operation of enlightened land owners, who appreciate the benefit that bees will surely bring to the flora of the surrounding land and to the eventual mutual benefit of us all.

Bees have been at my Scottish Borders Apiary for around 20 years. I was asked if I would like to take over the site by a beekeeper from Edinburgh, who sadly, through the passage of time, family health problems and the high cost of fuel, was finding it difficult to find the time to tend to the bees. He was given the bees and equipment by another beekeeper who had sadly also been unable to devote enough time to the upkeep of the hives. Unfortunately, among the 20 or so individual bee hives only a few were deemed to be worth saving and restoring. most were not and were beyond any economic repair.

Ted, (not his real name) told me that he thought that several years had passed since the hives had received any serious attention, before he became aware of them, but a few colonies had survived and were worth saving. He tidied up the site and repaired and replaced some hives and they were starting to thrive .
Ted was experiencing difficulties finding time to devote to the bees, and happily accepted my offer to take over the apiary, hives and bees.
So here I was once again patron to bees. This time in the Scottish Borders. I spent time and some money in restoration and made a decision that during my first year with these bees I would assess their potential with a view to increasing stocks and building up the colonies with the aim of better honey production in the future.
New stands were made, frames rescued and fitted with fresh foundation. old equipment was removed and either made serviceable, renewed or discarded, and the bees once again responded and gathered quite large quantities of honey.
Came the time this autumn to assess the situation in the apiary, to see if any colonies needed further help to go through the winter, so I paid a visit to the apiary.
Nothing.
No Bees, no hives, no stands, just empty spaces, a small pile of black ash, some scrap hive parts and the obligatory odd bricks that seem to accumulate in almost every apiary.
The whole caboodle had been removed.
Nothing left at all.
Everything, lock stock and barrel had gone!

More to follow on this theme as soon as I can